Why I Hate My Job
by TheInsomniacsGuild
Summary: Isn't it obvious?


The Woes of Unfortunate Appearances

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Disclaimer: The following slight abuse of J. K. Rowling's material was not written by said author but your beloved partners in wizarding crime, Ceyl and Ren. Do not try the following at home.

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With each day of teaching was a headache. One would think that after over thirty-five years of experience in attempting to educate hormonal teenage witches and wizards, such unfortunate repercussions would have long since expired. However, given that each day of teaching also brought such an unimaginable variety of catastrophes, the shock itself would likely send an average witch or wizard into a nasty coma for at least a week. Minerva was quite proud of the fact that she regularly escaped with nothing more than her constant feeling of tiny house elves chiseling through her skull.

That morning, Minerva was to resume the instruction of a two-part lesson on the Transfiguration of beetles into marbles. The Second Year students had recently mastered the Transfiguration of beetles into buttons, except for Ron Weasley, that is. Since his untimely mishap with the Whomping Willow and the Ford Anglia, the young Gryffindor's wand had no function apart from making him appear like an overgrown radish brandishing a warped chopstick – the boy's face turned a deep scarlet each time he embarrassed himself.

Transfiguration was complicated, and potentially dangerous, business, so it was fitting to virtually repeat the exercise. For this lesson, however, the Gryffindors and Slytherins were to be graded on the precise spherical nature and creative design of the marbles; any lingering appendages would detract from the overall grade, etc. Thus, Minerva reiterated the directions, insisted once again on the vital importance of following them, and exasperatedly noted the general inattentiveness of the students.

Although, the distraction was expected. A threatening message written in blood on a wall declaring the reopening of the Chamber of Secrets, accompanied with the newly petrified state of Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey, was sufficient enough to induce mass hysteria within the student body. Furthermore, there was an augmented sense of animosity between the Gryffindors and Slytherins due to the outcome of the Quidditch match two days before. Harry Potter was still bedridden in the hospital wing, having his bones re-grown, due to the incompetence of a certain Gilderoy Lockhart.

The students made no indication that they had registered the end of her lecture and had been signaled to commence. Actually, several students appeared to be immersed in a blissful stupor. Neville Longbottom analyzed the architectural design of the ceiling, mouth agape, and Minerva was about to tell off Draco Malfoy and his ape-like subordinates for antagonizing a stray beetle on a desk when almost every pair of eyes before her widened in response to some inexplicable horror.

Hermione Granger's hand ascended immediately into the air.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione pointed her raised hand, which shook with some sort of fear, to the corner of the room behind Minerva. There, zooming about in a rather volatile manner and colliding with the chalkboard and the right wall alternately, was a nose, quite definitely severed from the face it had once been attached to. Lavender Brown began emitting loud shrieks as the nose charged in her general direction. Luckily, however, the nose rerouted abruptly and proceeded to float up to the ceiling and settle itself there.

Minerva muttered an immobilizing charm to prevent the nose from assaulting any more unwary students and proceeded to contemplate how best to contact Dumbledore. Minerva had witnessed many a Transfiguration-gone-wrong incident, and it was now more than likely that there was a dim-witted student wandering the halls of Hogwarts without a nose. Conversely, what plagued her most was the thought of what additional body parts may have been detached and whisked to an undetermined location to wreak havoc on any bystanders; Minerva hoped any such organs were not required for the sustenance of life. Then, a solution came upon her in the form of gaudy purple robes and an immaculately maintained hairstyle.

"Professor Lockhart!" shouted Minerva, beckoning him into the classroom.

"Has there been a disturbance? I heard the sounds of distress and reported immediately!" he proclaimed, smiling heroically.

"It seems one of our students has elected to remove his or her nose. It would be greatly helpful if you would alert the Headmaster – immediately," commanded Minerva stiffly.

Lockhart's beaming smile widened, exposing every one of his perfectly white teeth. Several of the young girls had to prevent themselves from swooning; Minerva struggled to restrain herself from vomiting.

"Of course, Professor!" Lockhart obliged epically, or, rather, in a way he felt quite momentous.

* * *

The stairs had done it again, and a Hufflepuff fourth year was cursing Rowena Ravenclaw and her confounded architectural design.

He was already running late, and for Snape's class no less, when the stairs had changed, forcing him to travel down the dreaded second floor corridor. He was sprinting down the hall, partially so he would not be late and partially because the writing on the wall was tormenting him. It was a constant reminder that whatever monster was in the Chamber could come and get HIM at anytime; though, he wasn't sure if he would rather run into the monster or be late for Snape's class.

He was approaching the end of the corridor when a sound came from the door on his left.

"!"

His blood ran cold at the scream; his face turned white. Without pausing to look back, the Hufflepuff decided that Snape was the lesser of his worries at the moment and sprinted down the corridor toward the dungeons. He burst into the classroom with a bang.

"Professor Snape, there was . . .."

The boy was met with the wide-eyed stares of his fellow students and a glare of death from Professor Snape, who said, "Five points from Hufflepuff for your tardiness, five for effectively dismantling my lecture, and another five for running in the corridors."

"But Professor, there were screams coming from Myrtle's bathroom!"

"Five more points from Hufflepuff for interrupting and for your overall insolence; now, take your seat."

Snape began briskly walking out of the classroom but turned before leaving to add, "Touch nothing. If I find that anything has been stolen, moved, played with, destroyed, damaged, or otherwise handled in any way, I will remove the offending limb."

And no one doubted that he would.

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Severus Snape, thus, found himself stalking down the corridor toward the girls' lavatory on the second floor. Currently, he was entertaining his irritation by envisioning a variety of punishments he could inflict on the informant for removing him from his lesson, as well as devising an appropriate lecture for whatever unwitting idiot happening to be causing such a commotion. Indeed, the shrieking which he had been informed of had not yet ceased. Severus groaned, conceding to the fact that he would have to be subjected to such volume at the potential consequence of a decline in his exceptionally acute hearing. It would be best not to risk a lawsuit if there was actually a formidable danger, in contrast to the more likely reality of something ridiculous like a third year pining over some dramatic friendship conflict or a lost love. Perhaps Gilderoy Lockhart had rejected her marriage proposal.

Snape swooped into the lavatory but was quite shocked at the unanticipated site. Huddled on the floor with one hand pressed tightly over her face was Eloise Midgen, a rather obnoxious Hufflepuff that Severus suspected feared her threatening Potion's Master more than the Dark Lord himself. Albeit it was indeed terrifying to encounter a provoked Severus Snape on an ordinary day; a confrontation on the day following a Slytherin loss in a Quidditch match against Gryffindor was substantial enough a risk for students to be more careful to avoid his wrath on such particular days.

"Miss Midgen, would you stop that incessant noise!" demanded Severus in his characteristic dark monotone, not even having to raise it in volume to command utter silence. Only then did he detect that Eloise's hand was much too flat across her face.

"Remove your hand," he ordered. Eloise shook her head in desperate defiance, looking up at the unsympathetic Professor in a pleading manner. Severus remained indifferent to the plight of the insufferable child and proceeded to glare down at her.

Finally, Eloise shakily withdrew her hand to reveal the source of her squeaking dismay. In the precise location where her traditional acne-covered nose should have been was…nothing, apart from ordinary skin, which, rather unfortunately had not been at all cured of any such skin disorder.

"I was just trying to use a magical concealing spell! Pansy Parkinson told me about it," she spluttered emotionally. "I don't know what happened!"

Obviously, the foolish girl was yet to realize that Pansy Parkinson was _never_ overtly helpful, and most of her so-called charitable contributions to girls outside the Slytherin house typically had most unfavorable results.

"Miss Midgen, you idiotic girl. To value your cosmetic applications more than your schooling, to the point of trusting spells that are given to you in passing by uncertain sources, is ridiculous. Now, we have to search the entire castle for your _nose_. Do you have any idea how many people will be inconvenienced by your antics? How very disappointing that you failed to improve your appearance at all, despite your efforts," said Snape in a supremely unconcerned tone.

Then, just before a total emotional disintegration, Eloise's salvation arrived in the form of Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.

"Ah, Severus, I see you have discovered the owner of our misplaced nose," commented Dumbledore smoothly. Though, there was a look in his eye that suggested his disappointment in Severus's typical-for-him-yet-unorthodox-for-anyone-else method of handling Eloise's predicament.

"Miss Midgen has elected to perform irresponsible magic in pursuit of an enhancement in her appearance. As you can see, some things such as these may be beyond fixing," said Severus disinterestedly.

"SEVERUS! What are you thinking?! Can't you see she is in a state of distress! At least _she_ still has toenails!" reprimanded Minerva.

Severus's features seemed to ice over as he redirected his glare at his former Professor.

"Minerva, perhaps you could escort Miss Midgen to the Hospital Wing," suggested Dumbledore. Once Minerva had beckoned Eloise to follow her to the see Madam Pomfrey and the situation was at least marginally diffused, Dumbledore looked at Severus with yet another disappointed glance and followed her.

This action left Severus to seethe in blissful silence. He scanned the room with a sneer, only to pause when a slight marking on one of the sinks caught his eye. With a raised eyebrow, he began to slowly stalk over to observe the graffiti some dimwitted student most probably carved. However, his attention broke when the door was thrown open and the grating voice of the Granger girl assaulted his already abused ears.

"And then we'll need to add the EEEEP!"

The girls eyes widened in shock as she saw the professor, and she quickly shoved the cauldron she was carrying into the arms of the youngest Weasley boy.

"Weasley," Severus barked out, "what do you think you're doing in here? Don't you know this is a girls' lavatory, or can you not read? That would most certainly explain your abysmal Potions grade."

The rather dense child stared blankly back at him. "I don't know. . . hey! What are you doing in here, Professor?"

The biting lecture about respect for Professors, especially ones that were still fuming over the last Quidditch match, which Severus was preparing to spew at the boy was interrupted by the prefect Weasley strutting into the bathroom with an irate expression donning his red face.

"Ronald! How did I know I would find you here! I told you before not to go into girls' bathrooms, and I find you here again. Wait until mother hears about this."

But only one word stuck out to the Potions Master, and with another sneer and a raised eyebrow he said, "Again?"

_

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__Author's Note:_

_First of all, we might point out that we realize in canon that Harry is released from the Hospital Wing on the Sunday following his fateful Quidditch Match. However, we obviously have changed this to Monday, as he was not present in Transfiguration. After all, any exposure to Gilderoy Lockhart's medical expertise could land anyone in the Hospital Wing for that long…_

Ceyl: CAN I TELL MY JOKE! YOU KNOW, MY YOU-KNOW-WHO JOKE?!

Ren: Err… sure.

Ceyl: OKAY! Knock knock.

Ren: What?

Ceyl: You're supposed to play along! Knock knock.

Ren: Fine. Who's there?

Ceyl: You know.

Ren: You know who?

Ceyl: Exactly! AVADA KEDAVRA!

Ren: :dies:

Ceyl: Oh, that's rather disgusting. I have cat hair in my mouth.

_:It appears that Ren has died, and the Author's note can thus no longer continue. Perhaps she'll be revived in time for the next story. We can only hope…Ceyl needs to mourn now. Even though, I might point out, it's her fault…:_


End file.
